The CIA's Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter
by Minxy22
Summary: Bringing a guy home to meet the parents is always hard, but for Ellison Bartowsk mom and dad happen to be Sarah W. and Chuck Bartowski, so Horrible is an understatement. Uncle Casey makes three. First in a Series I'm starting called "CIA's Rules for..."


AN: Okay, so I had this idea and decided to see where it would go. This is the first Chapter. I'm thinking it's either going to be 2 or 3 chapters total depending on what kind f interest I get in the idea. The first chapter is just kind of an introduction. The next chapter will be the main event. Hope you guys like it. And if you do please leave a comment. I'll try to finish the next chapter soon.

Ps. I am new to Chuck fiction and I could really use someone to Beta my fics. Any takers. I'd need someone who could Beta at least the next chapter for me. Thanks!

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Chapter 1**

**Welcome Home Bartowski's**

The eerie silence should have calmed her frantic nerves, but the deafening stillness only caused the adrenaline in her system to pump faster. Instinct told her that the old Georgian style estate was far too quiet for its occupied state. Since entering the house she and Chuck had spotted only one of their targets and had managed to get past undetected, which left exactly two more; the location of both currently unknown. They'd made it up the stair case without incident and now as Sarah rounded another corner, the floor she was walking on creaked loudly even with the unusually careful measures she had put into choosing her steps. She paused, wincing at the sound of wood whining beneath her feet. They were almost there. The sheer desperation she felt to pull off this mission successfully was uncharacteristic and completely unprofessional, but she couldn't relinquish it. Only 15 more yards to their final destination and they'd be home free.

Sarah closed her eyes, took a deep breath and forced herself to focus on the mission at hand. Only when the offending noise seemed to produce no devastating consequences, did she begin to move again. A quick gaze over her shoulder confirmed what she already knew—Chuck was just a few inches behind her, imitating her tentative steps and guarding her back like always. They'd worked enough missions together over the years that they'd learned long ago to anticipate the other's actions with ease. They had their own language, their own special way of communicating the necessities on a mission. It was something that never ceased to boggle the minds of coworkers and other field agents. Even their boss didn't understand the logistics of it. It wasn't unusual for the two of them to get in and out of a location without ever speaking a word to one another, or for them to move together with such graceful synchronized fluidity that she often felt like they were one body with one mind while in the field.

Sarah crouched so that she was lower to the ground and paused only long enough to give her partner a quick smile before turning back around. A few more tiptoed steps, and she came to the end of hall number one.

The hard part was over. This time when she turned to face Chuck her index finger was pressed firmly to her lips. _Quiet. _ She motioned to an open door 20 feet in front of them and to the left.

Chuck followed her gaze and gave a silent nod of understanding. In his eyes she saw the same unspoken arrogance that he assigned to every mission they'd ever been on—_piece of cake. _

Sarah was tempted to roll her eyes, but refrained and instead focused on assessing their surroundings. At least they'd placed another one of their targets, which only left them one more. The hallway was still. The muffled sound of the television traveling up stairs and quiet shuffle of movement in the room across from them were the only signs that they weren't alone. Carefully, Sarah peeked her head around the corner and she stared longingly at the closed, heavy oak door at the end of the hall. She could smell the freedom.

The dark hallway made it nearly impossible to see where they were going. The soft glow of a floor lamp twenty feet behind them and the harsh blue gleam creeping from the crack in the open door, no doubt a product of an active computer monitor, provided the only current source of light. A far cry from the worst conditions they'd ever operated in. They'd make due.

In the dim lighting Sarah was able to locate the bags she had set down at her feet. She clenched one in each hand and faced Chuck. _You ready? _

He answered her unspoken question with an easy smile that said he was born ready.

They both knew that wasn't the case at all, but she'd never correct him.

With cautious footwork, Chuck moved gracefully to the other side of the wall and after checking the empty hallway once again, motioned to her that they were clear for takeoff. Precious seconds past, but neither of them moved yet. Both still in crouching positions, they locked eyes for the briefest of seconds. Sarah's heart started to fluttered when the hint of a smile formed at the corner of her husband's mouth. The mischievous twinkle in his deep brown eyes almost had her falling out of spy mode to lean over a kiss him. She pushed the urge aside and fought to maintain her focus.

Their gaze never broke and as if an unspoken countdown had finally reached its descent, both of them simultaneously broken into a stealth run towards the single door that stood in the way of a blissful mission complete.

Sarah was smiling now.

She was thirty feet away.

Twenty feet.

Ten feet to freedom.

Her hand was now inches away from touching the doorknob. She could practically feel the cold brass turning under her fingers before she had even reached out to grasp a hold of it. Just as the sweet taste of relief started to settle on her tongue, footsteps she instantly knew did not belong to Chuck sounded behind her before coming to a stop. She knew right away that they'd been made. Dropping her head, a muffled cursed escaped her tight lips even before the hallway lights came on.

"Aww, Damn!" Chuck whined.

Sarah wanted to laugh as his pathetic tone. It was just like her husband to sound more like a pouting toddler than a highly trained CIA spy.

She sighed loudly as the harsh weight of defeat came crashing down on her. The bags in her hands dropped to her feet with a loud 'clank' as she turned to face her hunter.

They'd definitely been caught.

The solid body at the end of the hall stood motionless. His face gave nothing away, his arms were crossed stoically over his chest and his head was tilted just slightly to one side, as if he was contemplating the situation with a sense of quiet amusement. She glared at him when his lips twitched slightly in the fight to hide a smile. His hard gaze moved from her to Chuck who was now sitting on the hardwood floor with his back against the wall embracing a visible sulk.

"What in hell's name are you two idiots doing?" Casey asked with a distinctive snort of laughter.

From his place on the floor, Chuck turned and looked up at her. The scowl on his face deepened. "Hey Sarah, I found our third target," he declared wryly.

Sarah growled in displeasure. _So much for being stealth and going in unnoticed_. Vivid violent images formed in the back of her mind as she imagined the several hundred ways she and Chuck could easily immobilize Casey, stuff his oversized body into a nearby closet and still make it to their bedroom and lock the door before the other two occupants noticed their presence.

When neither of them offered up an answer, Casey gave an easy smirk. "If you two nimrods thought you could sneak past me and continue this little honeymoon for one more night without me knowing it, you're even more dim that I thought you were." He scoffed at the mere idea of it. "If my NSA training wasn't enough, watching the rats for an entire two weeks while you too were off canoodling on a beach somewhere in the Pacific has taught me more than I care to know about squashing devious—" he smirked, "and in your case idiotic, plans. Points for effort though," he graciously added.

A snarky comment was on the tip of her tongue, but if she went that route now she might as well just give up. John Casey was a man not easily swayed, but lucky for her she knew his Achilles heel. So with a deep breath she covered the urge to bit his head off and instead offered what she hoped looked like a sincere smile. Powered by fierce determination, she began to step closer towards the other member of Team Bartowski. This was going to be so easy. "Casey you known that Smith and Wesson you've been drooling over. The one in last months CIA catalogue?" She kept her voice at a soft whisper, not giving up on her hopes of finishing the night off as she had originally planned.

"SW191. Olive Drab Crimson Trace Lasergrip," he said dreamily.

Sarah could practically see the drool foaming that the edge of Casey's mouth as thoughts of possessing the shiny new toy turned in his mind.

Her partner's eyes narrowed suddenly, his tone distrusting when he finally asked, "Yeah. What about it?"

"It's yours if you stay one more night and make sure that our presence here goes undetected till morning."

Casey's arms crossed over his chest again as he considered her offer. That damn gun was all he had been talking about for weeks. Sarah's lips lifted in triumph. She knew she had him. There was no way he would tell her—

"No."

Her smile fell. "No?" she repeated disbelievingly.

Casey shrugged. "It's not worth giving up a chance to watch you two squirm. I have to get my jollies somewhere."

By this point Chuck had bolted from the floor and was now standing by her side, looking about ready to beg in necessary. "Now John," he said, trying to reason with the other man.

Casey shook his head. An amused smile formed on his usually stoic face. "Not gonna work Bartowski. Not even _you_ have that much charm."

Panic started to swell inside of her. Years of partnership had taught her things about John Casey, some of the information she wouldn't wish on her worst nightmare, but with that knowledge came an ability to read him like an open book. And now, the look in Casey's eyes was easy to read. Sadly she knew what was coming next.

"Hey kids!" Casey's booming voiced echoed off the hall walls as he hollered down the stairs. "Mommy and Daddy are back!" he shouted sweetly. This time he didn't stop himself from laughing at the panicked looks mirroring on her and Chuck's faces.

_Shit. _No way they'd be getting any sleep now.

The sound of heavy footsteps running up the stairs grew louder and before long Chuck and Sarah's 14-year-old daughter Ellison was standing at the top of the steps in her pajamas, her precious cell phone clutched in her hand at her side. First Ellie smiled, but then as she seemed to put all the pieces together, a firm scowl contorted her beautiful face. Her gaze moved from Sarah, to Chuck and then to their bags now tossed haphazardly on the floor. Her blue eyes narrowed at the sight of their black jump suits and several things happened simultaneously—her shoulders fell, her eyes widened in what Sarah believed to be a mixture of disbelief and maybe a slight bit of mortification, and a soft groan fell from her pouting lips. Any minute now and she'd start stomping her feet like a toddler in the middle of a melt down.

"Oh my God you guys!" the teenager shrieked. "Please tell me you weren't pretending to be spies again."

Beside her, Chuck's face twisted in offense. "I resent that statement. We weren't _pretending_ to be anything."

Ellie's arms crossed over her chest as she looked to her Uncle John and rolled her eyes, hoping that the other man would back her up.

He just smiled and made a show of trying not to laugh.

Before Casey could make the smartass comment that had the wide grin spreading across his face, the sound of a door opening down the hall had everyone turning their heads. Sarah's mouth formed an easy smile at the sight of the son she hadn't seen in almost two weeks.

As soon as he saw her standing in the hallway, her youngest took off at a dead sprint, his socked feet gliding wildly across the hardwood floors. He launched himself into the air two feet before he reached her and Sarah caught him in her arms with ease, his eight-year-old body molding to hers for a tight hug.

"How my favorite little man?" she asked after Sam released her neck just enough for her to pull away.

The beaming smile he gave her displayed a mouth full of missing teeth. He showcased the gaps like a war badge, equally proud of each loose tooth that would earn him another visit form the Tooth Fairy. For a second she lost herself in childish look on his face. The crooked grin was an exact replica of his father's and it never failed her make her heart warm. "I'm great!" Sam said. "Uncle John taught me how to dismantle a gun blindfolded."

Sarah's arms went slack and she nearly dropped the ecstatic child she was holding as she glared at her former partner. "Casey—" she growled.

Chuck's firm grip as he latched quickly onto her arm was the only thing standing in the way of her strangling the man in front of her. He might as well start planning his funeral because as soon as they were alone she was going to kill John Casey, and they both knew that she was good enough not to leave behind any evidence. Not even the buzzards would be able to find his body.

It seemed that Chuck wasn't the only man that could read her mind because Casey's eyes suddenly went wide in a mixture of fear and regret. "Um buddy—" he stammered several times, his voice a harsh whisper directed at her son. "What did I tell you about that little lesson of ours?"

The child she was holding turned to face her then, his disheveled brown curls falling into his wide brown eyes. Sarah merely frowned when he looked at Casey again and offered up an apologetic smile. "I wasn't supposed to tell Mama."

Again Chuck's hand on her arm kept her from lunging. Now not only was Casey letting her baby play with firearms, he was teaching her kid that it was okay to lie within reason. _Nice Casey_.

The anger in her system was almost too much. Sarah turned to her husband, her eyes seething with a harsh warning. If he knew what was good for him then he'd better back her up on this one. Much to her displeasure, her husband just squeezed her arm and shook his head. The definite look in his eyes told her he'd handle it later and it took everything in her not shout, _don't bother I'd rather shoot him_ _now._

Before she could say anything though Sam turned in her arms and frowned. His fingers fumbled at the collar of her jumper and he looked down at the rest of her. When he'd made the same quiet observation of his father's attire he asked, "Are you two playing spies again?"

She had the sudden urge to roll her eyes. Across from her, Casey snorted and her daughter's smug smile said, _told you so!_

Seriously? Was that what her children thought she had done for over ten years before she'd decided to give up her career to start a family? That she'd _played_ spy? She was a spy dammit! Well she used to be. At one point in time she's been the best damn spy the CIA had on payroll. The fact that after nearly 15 years they still hadn't quite accepted her resignation spoke volumes to that statement, but aside from the occasional grab job, or short-term undercover stint, she and Chuck had said bye bye to the spy games and were quite happy with the life they had created.

She had two beautiful children, the most amazing husband any woman could ever dream of, and a career as a personal trainer that she quite enjoyed. She also taught weekly self-dense classes at the YWCA and the occasional training class at the CIA headquarters in Los Angeles. Chuck's video game software company provided them with more income than they would ever need in 10 lifetimes. Life was good. Busy, but good. That was part of the reason she and Chuck had gone on the two week trip to the Caribbean. They'd gotten so caught up with work, soccer practice, PTA meetings and the ever hectic task of trying to raise a normal family that they had neglected setting aside quality adult time. When Beckman called and asked them to bring back a stolen diamond that the NSA believed was being stored on a Caribbean cruise ship, she and Chuck had been more that happy to step temporarily out of retirement and jumped at the chance of a much needed vacation. Letting the United States government foot the bill for said vacation had just been an added bonus.

Instead of trying to defend her actions to her family any further, Sarah kissed her son on the forehead and set him on the floor. Smiling, she ruffled his already tousled curls. "It's getting late, little man. Why don't you go brush you teeth and daddy can come tuck you into bed."

It was amazing how much their son favored his father, but when he frowned, the resemblance between father and son was uncanny. Sam's forehead and nose scrunched into an impossible scowl, and his lips stuck out in pout that would bring even the best CIA agent to his knees. It was hard enough having to tell Chuck no at times. God was just messing with her by making her give birth to his clone. "But I want you to tuck me in. You promised to read the last chapter of our book when you got home." Sam's brown eyes filled with innocent longing. "You promised, Mama."

After a quick deliberation, Sarah realized that this was one battle she wasn't going to win. Casey's execution would have to wait. Maybe she'd kill him in the morning after she got a good night's sleep. "Fine baby. Go brush your teeth and I'll be there in a few minutes to tuck you in."

Sam's feet couldn't move fast enough as he ran towards the bathroom he shared with his sister.

Exhaustion clawed at her from every direction. She and Chuck had been awake for more than 42 hours making sure the diamond made it back to Beckman before they made the last trek home. All she wanted to do was fall into bed. She was so tired she probably wouldn't even bother undressing first.

The firm hand at her lower back had Sarah closing her eyes and for a moment she allowed herself to get carried away in her husband's touch.

"Mom."

Sarah groaned and opened her eyes to see Ellie standing in front of her. Her daughter had obviously gone to her room and come back without Sarah noticing because she held out a dirty shirt and a pair of grass stained shorts that she hadn't been holding earlier. "I need you to wash my soccer uniform. I have a game tomorrow morning."

"Ellison, you're 14 years old. You know how to use a washing machine," Sarah scolded.

Ellie merely shrugged. "Yeah, but I knew you were coming home. Why do it if I knew you'd do it for me."

She really hated this teenage rebellion stage. She'd gladly take a repeat of the terrible twos. Al least Ellie hadn't been able to argue back when she was that young.

"Fine. Give me your uniform."

Ellie moved forward and offered the clothes before turning back towards her room. She'd just gotten to the door before her turned back. There was a brief pause as she smiled genuinely at both parents. "I'm really glad you guys are back," she said.

A warmth spread through Sarah's heart at the compliment, but it was short lived.

"Besides," Ellie continued, "Uncle Casey can't cook to save his life and if I have to watch another one of those Ronald Regan documentaries again I think I might hurl."

Casey grinned back at them behind unapologetic eyes. "Welcome Home, Bartowski's."

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A/N: Welcome Home Chuck and Sarah! Lol. Some thing to look forward to in the next chapter….**

**Ellison brings her first boy over to the house. How are mom and dad going to react to their teenage daughter dating an older man?**

**Lets just say that there's going to be knife play.**


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